Plain Truth
by Hannaadi88
Summary: Alfred hadn't been aware at the time, however, of the disastrous combination of an intoxicated Arthur and a heady atmosphere. "Listen Arthur, just because some tall and dark stranger smiles at you doesn't mean that you have to latch yourself onto him. Hell, he's probably in his twenties!"


"Let me go!"

Alfred narrowed his eyes. All he needed was for somebody to hear the yelling and walk in on them.

"Listen Arthur, just because some tall and dark stranger smiles at you doesn't mean that you have to latch yourself onto him. Hell, he's probably in his twenties!"

Pinning his friend to a wall in a side room wasn't what Alfred had had in mind when he had invited Arthur to a party that evening. The host had said that his parents wouldn't be home, and what with the way Arthur had been pouring himself over his studies, Alfred had decided that the poor guy deserved a break.

He hadn't been aware at the time, however, of the disastrous combination of an intoxicated Arthur and a heady atmosphere.

The death glares he was getting weren't doing anything to help him, either. "That is none of your bloody business," Arthur hissed at him as he struggled, stepping on his foot. Once Alfred leaned forward and pressed his full weight against him, trapping him completely against the wall, Arthur seemed to have given up on a physical attempt at escaping.

Instead, he allowed his limbs to fall limp against the hard stone behind him and gave Alfred a withering glance.

"Don't give me that look. C'mon Art, were you really expecting me to stand by and watch you make a fool out of yourself? I saved you just before you could make a serious mistake!"

"Save me?" Arthur's brows shot up incredulously. "Save me from what, exactly? Having a good time? The only thing you did, Alfred, was embarrass me in front of everyone when you dragged me away like some child. I am sure Adam never would have done that."

Alfred's hold on the wrists in his hands grew tighter. "So that's his name? Adam? Hah. He could be a serial killer for all you know. But no! The ten minutes you've been throwing yourself at him shamelessly qualify you as an expert on this _Adam. _I bet all he needed to do was to tell you that you have a nice ass and you would have woken up with your wallet empty-"

"He did actually."

"…wait, what?"

Arthur squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "Tell me I have a nice arse. He did that."

Alfred wasn't aware that he had been staring until he realized that Arthur was glaring at him again. "Um, okay? And that's relevant because…?"

"Because he actually complimented me!"

Arthur was evidently flustered, though Alfred wasn't sure why. "He said something nice to me when my own _friend _does nothing but insult me! Maybe I like being told I look good. Is that a crime, Alfred? Does that make me a whore?"

Alfred stepped back in confusion, releasing Arthur from his grasp. Were those _tears _in the other's eyes?

"Shit Arthur, I'm sorry," Alfred said quickly in a slightly panicked voice. He wasn't used to bringing his friends to tears, least of all Arthur. He didn't know how to cope with tears. "I didn't mean it, honest. I just… it just didn't make sense to me. If you wanted somebody to compliment your ass, you could have just come to me."

Silence. Arthur looked up at him in surprise, forgoing his tears. "Why would you compliment my arse?"

"Because he's right, you have a really nice one. It looks great in those jeans." Alfred shifted awkwardly, averting his eyes from the shocked look he was getting. "No homo, obviously. Just calling them as I see 'em."

"Obviously," Arthur murmured in agreement, stepping forward. Tentatively, he reached out his hand and cupped Alfred's cheek in his palm. "What else do you like about me…without being weird, of course?"

Alfred was breaching unfamiliar territory, one which wasn't strictly comfortable.

But if he were to make it up to Arthur, he'd do whatever the other wanted of him, even if it made his palms break out in a cold sweat.

"Er, your eyes, I guess? They're really green. You're really fun to hang out with and I know you'll always forgive me, no matter how much of a jerk I am. You've got really soft skin-"

A pair of lips against his stopped his rambling abruptly. A pair of hands kept his head in place, pressing their mouths together firmly in a strength Alfred hadn't been aware that Arthur possessed. And there he was, kissing back with a vigor _he _didn't know that he possessed himself.

It was only when he felt something wet wipe against his lips that he yanked himself away from Arthur, breathing heavily with a dark flush.

He had been kissing his _friend_, for crying out loud!

Instead of showing any hurt, which would have been expected of him (really, Arthur was too sensitive for his own good), a languid smirk spread across Arthur's face as he leaned back against the wall to inspect the flushed mess he had left after him. A silent _I told you so _hung in the air, even though nothing had been mentioned before.

"Look, I don't know what that just was, but I'm not gay," Alfred spoke up finally, running an agitated hand through his hair. "You're my best friend and all, but I just don't feel like that with you."

Arthur hadn't looked particularly bothered, though, which only agitated Alfred further.

"Of course not, love," Arthur hid a smile, raising his chin in the direction of the door. "My mistake. I will just go back out there and see if Adam is up for some dancing, then."

Arthur had barely taken a few steps before Alfred grabbed his arm. "You're not going to Adam," he insisted firmly, his eyes boring into Arthur's. "He's going to hurt you."

Arthur sighed theatrically and turned to face Alfred with a thoughtful look. "Well then, that may impose a problem. You see, I had my heart set on snogging someone tonight. You would not happen to know somebody you approve of, would you?"

Taken aback, Alfred let go of Arthur's arm once more. "Well I- I don't know. But you're not spending the night with that guy," Alfred declared, frowning.

It looked as if something had finally snapped Arthur out of his calm facade. "Look here, Jones. You cannot simply decide who I will spend my time with, much the less rob me of the only man who showed any interest without offering any alternative. You do not own me."

Something flashed in Alfred's eyes. "Yes, I do," he growled, stepping forward to circle his arms around Arthur's waist. "You belong with me, not with some creepy old dude."

And then he kissed him.

.x.

The air between them was almost suffocating, but Alfred couldn't care less- he had never felt this good.

The heavy weight on his lap wasn't comfortable but it was ever so satisfying. The tongue in his mouth and the calloused hand on his cock didn't belong to a girl, but that didn't seem to matter anymore.

He pulled his face away, gasping for the breath that had been stolen from him in that all-consuming kiss. Arthur smirked up at him and trailed his mouth so that his lips were pressed to the junction of his throat and jaw.

Exhaling audibly, Alfred tilted his head back and leaned against the wall as he concentrated on the sucking sensation on his throat on one hand and on the delicious friction on his length.

For once, it felt good to let go and just to _feel_. Arthur's hand was damp with sweat, which made it easier for the other to glide it up and down his cock smoothly despite the bumps and occasional vein. Arthur's other hand was pressing down hard on his hipbone, keeping Alfred in place when he would try to pump his hips to his own rhythm.

"Steady, love," Arthur would breath against his skin whenever Alfred's whines would grow too loud for comfort. "You do not want to finish this yet."

Not that Alfred had much choice when Arthur rolled the pad of his forefinger over his tip. "Fuck," he swore, wriggling under Arthur's weight. "I can't-"

"Come," Arthur cut him off, nipping at his ear playfully. "Come for me."

And with a strangled cry, he did. Arthur kept pumping him until there was nothing left to milk. By the time Alfred's breathing came at a steadier pace, he could feel something hard pressing against his stomach. A firm reminder of what they had been doing.

Stricken, he looked up to meet Arthur's hooded gaze. "I'm not gay," he said slowly, finishing his statement with a questioning lilt, followed by a hesitant smile.

Arthur gave him a grin, pulling his hand and pressing it to the bulge in his jeans.

"Of course not, poppet."

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_Reviews are always welcome :)_


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